


Truly a Heather

by insertfandomjoke



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, and here it is, and no one can convince me otherwise, anyways heather mcnamara is truly an underrated character, i just wanted a happy gay ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 15:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11188194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertfandomjoke/pseuds/insertfandomjoke
Summary: Her story is not one for fairy tale books. Her story is not one of happy beginnings, sweet songs and romantic conclusions. But her story is hers, and no one can take it away from Heather McNamara. (Or the musical told in little tidbits of Heather’s perspective.)





	Truly a Heather

Sure, her story starts out innocent enough. If you call the yellow-clad girl living up to her expectations of putting people in their place, pushing others around and getting dirty with only the best of the best. McNamara does what Chandler tells her to do, and that is that. That was the way things had always been – except, no, no it wasn’t. Heather McNamara will never admit this to anyone, but at night, she can’t help but think of the better times. She was sure they all thought about their kindergarten days, and sometimes that gave her comfort. Most of the time, she just felt more alone.

She remembers holding hands with other girls and other boys as they danced around singing nursery rhymes, and not one of them flinched in disgust when they stood next to a _geek_ or _nerd_ or _loser._ Not one of them threw around insults like _gay, pansy, freak, slut,_ and not a single one of them was excluded. Heather remembers wishing it could stay like that forever, but if she’s learnt anything by now, it’s that dreams aren’t meant to come true.

Graduating kindergarten, they all hooked pinkies and promised forever. By summer, they had all forgotten their friends. Then summer fell away and they fell into a natural hierarchy and thus began the hate. Heathers at the top, followed by Kurts and Rams, and then at the very bottom, Marthas. 

Heather Duke isn’t the same Heather who played with Veronica and Martha in the sandpit. Ram Sweeney isn’t the same Ram who kissed Martha… But Heather McNamara is still the same Heather McNamara. She still follows around Chandler, still cares too much and still thinks that Martha Dunnstock’s and Veronica Sawyer’s friendship is something she _desperately_ wants. So when Veronica joins the Heathers, McNamara doesn’t complain, she isn’t mean and she sympathises with Veronica. In secret.

She knows she isn’t smart, but she does know that Veronica doesn’t deserve to be in this group. She actually has a _future._ If Veronica joins them, she’ll get her years of glory but then… there’ll be nothing else to her. Heather McNamara had accepted this ages ago, when someone called her a bully for the very first time. When the other Heathers found out, they helped her plunge their head in the toilet. She had tried to protest, but she was forced to do it anyway. The teachers caught them and lost any respect they still had for her.

That was the past. Now, Heather McNamara spends the party acting dumber than usual. Everyone loves this – so she lives up to the part. She teases the guys and pretends that she enjoys the leers and trailing eyes. She’s _the yellow one_ to everyone – nothing more, nothing less. She’s one-dimensional. Her traits are as follows: positive, dumb, easy. That’s who she is. And McNamara believes that for a long time.

And then her best friend dies. Of course, she doesn’t know that Heather was murdered. She’s under the impression that one of her only comrades in this world didn’t think _anything_ or _anyone_ here was worth it. So her insides shrivel up even more, and her happy exterior slowly crumbles. She allows herself to be mean, and doesn’t hesitate (much) when she’s forced to invite Veronica over to the cemetery. Heather McNamara finally lives up to her role. 

She’s a Heather. And Heathers don’t have room for Veronicas. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it must _remain_. (It’s not because she doesn’t want the blue girl to get corrupted further. It’s not because she’s filled with guilt every time she sees Veronica. It’s not because thinking about her getting hurt is the worst thing to plague her mind. _It’s not._ Because Heathers aren’t good people. Because Heathers don’t have the capacity to feel sympathy.)

When Kurt and Ram turn up dead too, Heather McNamara can feel her carefully constructed facade crumbling. It’s not a good feeling. Nothing is anymore. She sees Veronica suffering too. She takes comfort in this – not that she wants ~~her friend~~ _Veronica_ to hurt, but because it means someone else realises how horrible this is. Someone else feels sick when they think about all this. Someone else actually _feels_ something. Heather Duke has become unrecognisable – popular, meaner and confident. She doesn’t care about Chandler or their “boy toys”. Heather McNamara is starting to think she never did.

She finds the apparent solution at the assembly. She accidentally opens up and tells them about how much pain she’s in constantly… and people laugh. They jeer her off the stage and into the pill bottle. And then. Veronica stops her. Veronica helps her. Veronica, despite everything she has done to her, cares.

And when Martha Dunnstock takes a ~~dive~~ stand against it all, it opens her eyes. 

Heather doesn’t have to be a Heather. She can change her mind at any moment. She can stop this madness and attempt to be a good person. Of course, her insecurities tell her that she’ll never be _that_ , no matter how hard she tries, but…

In the end, Veronica takes her hand, leads her home with Martha, and they laugh. Not in the cruel way. Not at someone else. They laugh because they’re alive. And then because Veronica kisses her cheek, and later her lips, and Martha promises not to tell a soul. 

Maybe this is what it’s like to be seventeen. Properly and truly seventeen.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is my first fic that i've posted on ao3. i don't really know how this works yet, so we'll see!


End file.
